Summer Lightning
by The Penumbra
Summary: Sasuke flicked a glance to his left, where the girl who had hijacked his ride was sitting demurely, hands folded neatly in her lap, securely strapped into the back seat of the taxi without a trace of worry on her face.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _That it is not mine, 'tis true; 'tis true 'tis pity; And pity 'tis 'tis true. _

-With humble apologies to the bard (^_^)

**A/N: **See, the problem with uploading new stories isn't that there's a lack of inspiration for the stories _per se; _my problem is actually in finding a suitable title. I'm telling you, it can take anything from hours to months before I convince myself that yes, YES, if I squint and poke my fingers in my eyes, this particular title looks quite decent. Maybe not perfect, but you can't win them all. Otherwise, all my stories would remain hidden somewhere within my hard disk, titled with something verging on 'Random number story 2", which isn't the most appealing thing ever you know.

Err... no. I still tend to ramble on. But bear with me. I listen all day (and sometimes half the night) to other people ramble away - I've earned that short paragraph I tell you!

And yes, unsurprisingly, this is ANOTHER SasuHina. But to be original, it's *gasp* set in New York / Japan and *even bigger gasp* the Hyuuga and the Uchiha are business rivals! OMG, someone call the originality police! D:

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**SUMMER LIGHTNING**

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_**Chapter 1**_

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**...**

**..**

**_-New York, USA-_**

**_-August 2009-_**

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_Sasuke flicked a glance to his left, where the girl who had hijacked his ride was sitting demurely, hands folded neatly in her lap, securely strapped into the back seat of the taxi without a trace of worry on her face._

_It wasn't the first time he'd been stopped in the street by a perfect stranger – hell, this was New York ; you couldn't even walk out of the door without tripping over someone who wanted your money, your time or your soul – but he'd certainly never been accosted by a pint-sized female who spoke to him in Japanese, was seemingly sane, and found no compunction in asking him (him of all people! Mr Please-stay-away-from-me-because-I-get-hives-when-children-come-too-close!) to help her._

...

As a rule, Uchiha Sasuke did not take taxis. Being rich and the sole heir of a multimillionaire company generally meant having a fleet of cars at your beck and call, but sod's law, as anyone will tell you, is the one unchangeable law in this world. And hence, half an hour before a _very_ important meeting (his father's italics, not his, and when Uchiha Fugaku italicised his words, people delivered without fail or ran for cover), Sasuke found himself stranded on the other side of town, without a single private mode of transport.

He had just managed to flag down a taxi when he'd felt someone tug insistently at his coat. Sasuke whirled round, fangs bared, ready to tear the idiot who wanted to skip the queue or steal his wallet (both common ordeals in his daily life) into shreds when he'd been faced by a solemn pair of blue eyes, staring into his.

"Excuse me mister," she had asked him in Japanese with an unmistakable Okinawa accent "would you be so kind as to let me I share your taxi?"

Uchiha Sasuke looked carefully at her, keeping a good grip on his briefcase and a lookout for any TV cameras looking out for a short news clip about the heir of the Uchiha corporation picking up small girls (just because you were paranoid, it didn't mean they weren't out to get you). "Where's your mother?" he asked suspiciously.

"At our hotel of course," the girl told him looking surprised that he hadn't known something so obvious.

The Uchiha frowned. "So why aren't you with her?" he asked.

"I unfortunately got lost," she replied primly, "And some terrible person stole my money. Mummy will pay you for the trouble as soon as we get back," the girl ended, smiling winningly. She was lucky only her money had been stolen, Sasuke thought as he looked at her.

"It's very dangerous to be out on the streets alone, especially here" he pointed out.

"Mummy says so too," the child agreed, "but you're taking care of me now," she said cheerfully.

This certainty that Sasuke was willing to play nursemaid stumped the Uchiha. He glowered speechlessly at her beneath lowered brows while she looked expectantly back. The taxi driver, uninterested in the conversation and the dilemma Sasuke was in, interrupted. "Look mister, either you and the kid get in, or I'm off," he said, tapping impatiently at the meter. "Some of us have work to do."

Sasuke growled, and heroically restrained himself from telling the cabbie exactly where could go, and what to do on the way there. "All right, come on," he said to the girl. She smiled, and climbed inside the taxi. Sasuke slipped in beside her. "What's the name of your hotel?" he asked the girl, praying that at least she knew that much.

"The Waldorf-Astoria please mister," she replied promptly, in English and the cabbie grunted and shifted gears. Sasuke silently thanked whatever deity had allowed this small piece of luck in his otherwise shitty day. His meeting also happened to be in the same hotel, which thankfully meant he could dump the kid at the reception so they could find whatever irresponsible adults had let her loose in New York, and he could finally get to the goddamn meeting. Perhaps if he was lucky the other party would be a few minutes late, and he, Sasuke, would get there those few seconds earlier and make it seem as though he'd been the one left waiting. (Yes, Sasuke hated being late. Hated it with a passion)

The dark-haired man settled back in his seat and sighed. What a day. At least his mother would find the whole story amusing.

Sasuke flicked a glance to his left, where the girl who had hijacked his ride was sitting demurely, hands folded neatly in her lap, securely strapped into the back seat of the taxi without a trace of worry on her face.

It wasn't the first time he'd been stopped in the street by a perfect stranger – hell, this was New York ; you couldn't even walk out of the door without tripping over someone who wanted your money, your time or your soul – but he'd certainly never been accosted by a pint-sized female who spoke to him in Japanese, was seemingly sane, and found no compunction in asking him (him of all people! Mr Please-stay-away-from-me-because-I-get-hives-when-children-come-too-close!) to help her.

She was an oddity, with her Asiatic features and bright blue eyes, dressed in very expensive clothes but wandering alone in New York. What kind of parents would let their child out like that? And why wasn't the kid freaking out at being lost? Sasuke didn't remember being that self-possessed when he was her age. He was curious enough to probe further into the matter, and rather pointedly asked her why she wasn't afraid of being alone in a large city without any cash or means of getting back home.

She blinked. "I _very_ scared," she corrected him. "But when I saw you, I knew everything would be okay."

For the second time in the matter of a few minutes, the kid had managed to floor Uchiha Sasuke once again. She beamed at him and he wondered if she was on drugs. Whatever people thought of him, they definitely did not see him as a guardian angel or some kind of ministering soul. "Err... why exactly did you think that?" he asked.

"Because you look _exactly_ like mummy's and my best friend!" she replied happily, and Sasuke choked. Before he recovered from the indignity of being compared to whatever goddamn hag she and her mother chose to consider as a _best friend_ (his subconscious shuddered even at the thought of using such terminology) his phone rang, sparing him from continuing this ego-damaging conversation.

He flipped open his phone, and frowned slightly at the display name. If his secretary dared so much as _breathe_ a word about Sasuke being late, he would not be responsible for his actions. "What?" he barked, and listened to the voice at the other end, audibly nervous at delivering the unwelcome news. His frown deepened into a scowl. "...Great, just great," he growled into the receiver, "Tell Hyuuga-san's secretary we'll postpone the meeting... yes...yes... tell them to let us know if we can be of any assistance. Yes... fine." He tossed his phone back into his pocket and breathed deeply. After all the hassle he'd been put through, he'd been ditched by the Hyuuga for a blasted family emergency. A family emergency! Rumours about old man Hyuuga didn't make him out to be the kind to postpone any business deal due to a family problem (death not excluded, that's why there were heirs after all). Sasuke massaged his temples, nursing a budding headache.

At least this time, he couldn't be blamed.

On the other hand, knowing his father, he somehow _would._

His other problem cleared her throat.

He wondered if she'd simply disappear if he ignored her.

"Mister?"

Apparently not.

"What?" he said wearily. His headache was growing by the nanosecond.

The girl was staring at him with wide eyes. "My name's Hyuuga Natsuye," she said. "Hyuuga-san is my mummy. I didn't know you knew her!"

He stared at her for a long second before redialling his secretary's number. "Connect me to Hyuuga-san now." Sasuke waited for his call to be connected while keeping an eye on the Hyuuga's daughter. The irony of fate, he thought wryly. Perhaps there was a god after all.

His secretary's harassed voice told him he was connected to the Hyuuga. "Ah, Hyuuga-San? Apologies for my call, but does your family emergency have anything to do with a missing daughter?" He listened to the agitated voice at the other end. "...yes... yes... Well she's in a taxi with me, we're on our way to the Waldorf Astoria... of course."

He handed the set to the girl. "Your mother would like to speak to you."

She took the phone composedly. "Mummy? Yes I'm fine... no... no... I didn't talk to him... I guess he forgot... I'm sorry... no...yes I'll stay with Uchiha-san... I love you too mummy... bye bye."

She handed the phone back to Sasuke. "Well, that's turned out well, hasn't it?" she asked him happily.

Sasuke decided he needed a stiff drink.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** _That it is not mine, 'tis true; 'tis true 'tis pity; And pity 'tis 'tis true. _

**A/N:** I really hate it when a plan backfires on me. See, I had this all nicely planned out, when I got this sudden - _wait, but that makes absolutely no sense!- _road to Damascus kind of flash, which totally threw the whole story into chaos. When I compare this to what was supposed to be... well, I just can't understand the way my mind works. Not that I'm sure it's technically working anymore. What with the weirdest times of work ever, which have totally thrown my internal clock into a frenzied haze of wtf-ness (breakfast at 3:00am? lunch at 9:00am? Why not?) desperate attempts to study for an upcoming exam, hayfever plaguing my sinuses and the usual tangles of life-in-general, I can't blame the neurons for deciding to take a permanent coffee-break.

Oh, and I haven't re-read this, so there will be plenty of mistakes. I couldn't bear to re-read it... after all, that's where all the trouble started in the first place!

I don't think I've answered all of your lovely reviews - if I haven't, I grovel humbly and give you cookies of your choice.

May you find the following to your liking!

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_**Chapter 2**_

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_**...**_

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Uchiha Sasuke knew he should be grateful. Other people spent months, years, a whole lifetime even, wondering whether their life had a point to it, and if so what it was. He on the other hand, knew that he lived to be a source of amusement to some sadistic invisible being, who generally used Sasuke's secretary as a medium to ensure that this happened (the true reason why the Uchiha heir had such a high turnover of secretaries – definitely not because he was an impossibly demanding, sarcastic, moody, perfectionist, obsessive-compulsive demon-master).

Which was why, after being saddled with a little she-monster and inadvertently rescuing her from the terrible fate of being lost, having to wait for forty-five minutes before the start of a meeting, then being fooled into thinking the sweet-looking, motherly woman who had thanked him with tears in her eyes for having saved her offspring would be grateful enough to make the business-deal an easy one (never, ever would he trust soft voices and sweet smiles again!), he had been coerced into accepting a dinner invitation with both she-creatures.

He had his secretary to thank for that, with his _"Oh, but Uchiha-sama, you're free Thursday and Friday evening this week! There should be no problem arranging a meeting with Hyuuga-sama!"_ just as he had smoothly begged off a thank-you dinner due to prior engagements. Sasuke could have sworn he'd seen his secretary's tail wagging, anticipating a well-done and a pat on the head, before Sasuke had turned the patented Uchiha glare (started by great-grandfather Uchiha who'd founded the company, improved by further generations) on him and reduced him to a quivering lump of goo.

His mother, on the other hand, had been amused by his predicament.

Scratch that. Her son, who when forced to interact with people outside work had all the social graces of a grizzly bear, forced to go out with a woman _and_ her daughter no less? She'd found all of it _hilarious. _

She'd also cheerfully mentioned that letting Fugaku know that he was having an informal dinner with the enemy would probably either give him a heart attack or a fit; Fugaku had some strange prejudice against the Hyuuga head, Hiashi dating back to their university days, which did not extend to business matters (business is business after all, and _liking_ your business partner never came into the equation) but _definitely_ involved avoiding any kind of voluntary social interaction.

Mikoto ordered Sasuke to let her be there should Fugaku get to know about this dinner, so that she could enjoy the show.

Sometimes Sasuke wondered if his mother was in cahoots with the aforementioned invisible being.

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**...**

**.**

Contrary to popular belief, Sasuke was not a devilishly handsome, charming and popular playboy. God knows who had circulated that rumour (not the devilishly handsome part – that was fact not rumour) but whoever it was couldn't have been further off the mark. He lived quietly, did not spend money lavishly in things he did not need, had few friends, next to little or no experience with women, and hated the idea of clubs, bars or anything vaguely resembling partying. In short, as his mother sometimes remarked despairingly, and perhaps a little guiltily, he was an old man in a young one's body.

He didn't really care. His ambition in life had always been to be an exemplary Uchiha and make his father proud of him. The things his father valued more than anything in a man were integrity, hard work and good business sense, and while growing up, all Sasuke's efforts had been into moulding himself to fit into those expectations. He had no idea if he had succeeded – his father was a hard man to please, and it had become even harder after the disappointment he had had to bear when...

Sasuke turned his thoughts away from that unsavoury and painful interlude of his life. It had been a definite turning point, and whatever childish thoughts Sasuke had had about his future (had he really dreamt of being a professional pianist? What a fanciful child he had been) had been swept away under the carpet. The loneliness and fear he'd felt as his whole world had disintegrated around him was something he preferred not to dwell on.

His voluntary social exclusion for most of his life had lead him to being distinctly uncomfortable in most social situations, and hence he tried to avoid such situations as much as possibly.

The Uchiha gazed pensively into his wineglass before taking a sip. His appartment was dark aside from the flickering of the television screen, which threw strange shadows on the walls. He'd muted the sound as well, uninterested in hearing what the actors were saying. Sasuke sighed.

The evening had definitely been one to remember.

He'd almost pulled out at the last minute but his pride had won out. Backing out because he was afraid of appearing like a complete social idiot in front of the Hyuuga woman and her daughter was not a viable reason. So he'd girded his loins and trudged on into battle.

The choice of place had surprised him. It was a small Italian restaurant, _La Piccola Lepre, _hidden in a side street he'd never heard of. Apparently, Hyuuga Hinata was not a fan of what was trendy or hip at the moment. This little trattoria was definitely not one of the mainstream places advertised in the more popular magazines, and the Uchiha, who was a secret fan of anything involving tomato sauce, hoped that it would at least be good. Sasuke had arrived a few minutes early, but when a smiling maitre d' lead him politely to a table situated at the back of the restaurant, Hinata and her daughter were already seated. Sasuke took a seat and accepted the menu and wine-list the maitre d' handed to him and exchanged greetings with the two Hyuugas.

"I am glad you could make it, Uchiha-san," Hinata bowing slightly, "Natsu-chan was e-especially looking forward t-to it." The occasional stammer startled the Uchiha. There had been no trace of it during their business meeting with her impassive face and her rigid adherence to her demands; now, on closer inspection, Hyuuga Hinata looked almost nervous. She was a mystery, this Hyuuga Hinata, whether she meant to or not. Her business profile was remarkable – with her having graduated summa cum laude from LSE, after which she'd managed to build up a small but successful art dealing company and was now heading the PR section of the Hyuuga Corp. Her achievements were made even more impressive by the fact that she'd probably given birth during her finals at university. On paper, Hyuuga Hinata was intimidating. Now, in this very instant, Hinata looked nothing like the sharp savvy, businesswoman she was supposed to be. Instead, she looked as nervous as Sasuke felt.

The thought of his hostess being as anxious as he was over a simple meal had never even crossed his mind; almost unconsciously, his tension began to ease. He murmured something about being his pleasure and the conversation, initially rather stilted, became easier as they discussed the menus and the wine list, and compared their various tastes. It was apparent that the Hyuuga was eager to make this a pleasant evening for him and to his surprise, it wasn't so hard to hold a conversation with her. She was well-read and articulate, and they held quite a number of common interests. Her daughter amused him with the occasional solemn interjection, and without realising it, he was more relaxed with strangers than he'd been for a long time.

Hinata confessed over their _antipasto _to having asked his secretary whether Sasuke liked Italian food and being delighted that he did as she loved this place, while Natsuye interjected that Uchiha-san should order the fresh ice-cream instead of bothering to eat the boring things ("...because grownups can do _anything_ even eat dessert all the time!") while Sasuke amused them both with his experiences of eating various types of cuisine. Their _primo piatto_ lead to comparing Japan with America, with the Hyuugas being surprised that Sasuke had not been in Japan since childhood, with Sasuke deftly avoiding explaining the exact reason for that. Over the _second piatto_ Hinata and Sasuke, usually both sticklers for propriety, were calling each other by their first name (with the obligatory –_san, _so as not to be over familiar) and once they got to dessert, the Uchiha realised with a sudden shock that he'd actually enjoyed the evening, and hadn't looked at his watch once.

He _liked_ them. He really _liked_ them.

Sasuke liked how she wasn't pretentious or coy, how she never even tried to flirt with him or talk about the Uchiha corp and their financial assets, how she evidently enjoyed good food and had an easy laugh, and he liked watching he way she and her daughter interacted with each other. He didn't have that much experience of watching parents with their children - his memories of his childhood consisted of very few family dinners, even before _that_ happened, and later when his mother had left, and his father spent all the time locked in his office, Sasuke had eaten most of his meals alone in the cavernous dining room. He envied the camaraderie between Natsuye and Hinata, and vaguely wondered why neither of them ever mentioned Natsuye's father. The girl's conversation had been peppered with what Aunty Hanabi had done or said, and where Uncle Neiji had been, but any mention of 'Daddy' was conspiciously absent. Sasuke also recalled not having read anything about an ex-husband in Hinata's profile.

He shrugged away the thought. It wasn't his business anyway, and anyway, it wasn't like his family didn't have any skeletons in their closet.

The thought suddenly strucj him that actually wouldn't have minded a follow-up of this dinner.

And possibly the world was ending.

"I...err... I enjoyed this," Sasuke remarked casually, trying not to sound as surprised as he felt, as he and Hinata sipped their espressos, while Natsuye spooned up the remains of her coveted ice-cream. The Hyuuga beamed and Sasuke gave himself a mental thumbs-up. "So did I, Sasuke-san!" she said happily, "I thought it would be horrible but it..." her voice petered out as she suddenly realised what she'd said.

"Horrible?" Sasuke raised an inquiring eye-brow as Hinata blushed profusely.

"I...oh... I mean..." Hinata covered her mouth. "I'm so sorry!"

Sasuke had to laugh. "If it's any consolation, I felt sure it was going to be horrible too," he told her. He raised his coffee cup. "A toast to our having been proven wrong?"

She pressed her fingertips to her head. "This a-always happen when I drink t-too much wine," she muttered shamefacedly. Her eyes met Sasuke's and he nodded towards her cup. Hinata laughed and lifted it up. "To our both being wrong," she said and they clinked their cups together.

_And may this be the first of many,_ Sasuke added internally.

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**...**

"Thank you once again, Sasuke-san, for helping my daughter," Hinata said, bowing gratefully.

"Honestly, it was nothing," Sasuke replied, thanking his lucky stars that she'd never know just how close he'd been to leaving the kid stranded there. He looked over at the younger Hyuuga, who looked rather sleepy, but as composed as ever. She met his gaze and grinned. "Mummy said I should be very grateful that I met such a nice person," she said. Sasuke blinked. Nice? Him?

"I think so too," Natsuye continued, "So will you marry my mother, Uchiha-san?"

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**...**

In retrospect, he could have given a much more dignified response. A hanging-jaw reflex with an indefinable questioning sound was not what you'd call smooth.

No, definitely not smooth. And definitely not complimentary.

Hinata had turned puce-coloured, and literally squeaked her daughter's name. Safe to say even she had no idea of the bombshell the pipsqueak was about to drop on both of them. The culprit, instead of looking abashed, looked distinctly aggrieved that her proposal was not met with her mother and Sasuke agreeing that it made perfect sense and rushing into each other's arms.

Sasuke could barely register what happened, what with the whirlwind of apologies, and calling for a taxi, and a look which suggested that tears weren't far away (embarrassment from Hinata, angry ones from Natsuye) and a disintegration of the evening into utter chaos, leaving him there on the pavement feeling strangely empty.

That cheerful ending had been two nights ago, and Sasuke hadn't heard a word from Hinata. He hadn't called her either, but he simply couldn't bring himself to do it. He was confused, embarrassed. He'd behaved like an utter dolt, simply standing there stiffly, complelety unresponsive to all of her apologies and distress, completely failing to try to diffuse the situtation or pretend that it never happend.

And _why _had he been so stunned himself? All it would have taken was a laugh, a small joke to ease the tension, but he'd behaved like a berk, like he'd been offended beyond belief! Sasuke groaned. Talk about social ineptitude! The one time he was thinking that well, maybe this was a woman worth knowing, he'd completely screwed it up. And the look on Natsuye's face! Ridiculous that he kept thinking about the look of reproach on the kid's face... what on earth had she expected him to do?

He tried to take a sip from his wineglass but it was empty. He slid it onto his coffee table, and fell back onto the sofa. Sasuke had toyed with the idea of sending flowers as a sort of apology, but it felt weird to send flowers to someone he barely knew. And what was he supposed to say? Sorry for having acted like a freak after a random comment from your kid? Sorry for having rejected you so rudely, it's not you it's me? Sasuke felt a migrane coming on.

Perhaps he should have phoned.

His doorbell rang, making him jump. He frowned. No one he knew would randomly drop by without prior notice, not even his mother. His doorbell rang again, insistently, and he growled as he got to his feet, annoyed at the very persistant person who was pissing the hell out of him. Sasuke strode to the door and flung it open, ready to give a veritable tounge-lashing to whoever had their finger stuck to the doorbell.

"What the hell are you..." His jaw dropped as he took in the forlorn little figure outside his door.

"Natsu-chan? What on earth are you doing here?"

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Dum dum duuuum... I love reviews :)


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